


I'm Gonna Be

by NYC_Sidewalk



Series: Seven Bloody Hells! [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: An Exercise In Silliness, F/M, Friendship/Love, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NYC_Sidewalk/pseuds/NYC_Sidewalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya is home alone and bored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Gonna Be

Arya loved Saturdays. Especially this rare kind of Saturday when she has the house all to herself.

 

Her parents have gone to Riverrun to visit her sick grandpa Hoster, while Robb and Jon went to their usual football scrimmage. Sansa left at the crack of dawn for a long drive to High Garden to spend the weekend with Willas, her boyfriend; Bran was at his climbing training program; and little Rickon practically dragged his nanny Osha and Shaggydog to the wolf sanctuary near Karhold. On a normal Saturday at one o’clock sharp, Arya would be at fencing practice, but Syrio called this morning to cancel their session because of food poisoning. “The fierce First Sword of Braavos, struck down by bad curry,” she mused.

 

So she’s home alone, which is something short of a miracle, really. In a crazy household like theirs – with hormonal teens and huge dogs running amok – one can never find peace, however big the Winterfell manor is. She wished Nymeria was here to roughhouse with, but Hodor took the rest of the dogs to the kennels for grooming.  

 

She brought her laptop and backpack down to the living room with the intent of starting her homework, but immediately laughed at the improbability of that happening. Arya simply doesn’t do math on a Saturday. While stuffing her face with chips and spoonfuls of ice-cream – lemon cake flavor and Sansa’s last tub – Arya scrolled through her music folders, found her 80s playlist and put it on shuffle.

 

The sounds of The Cure, Sonic Youth and The Smiths wafted in the empty house. Arya grew up listening to and loving her dad’s old vinyl collection. Whenever she hears these oldies, it always reminds her of summers at the Wolfswood cottage. Then suddenly, the intro for I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by The Proclaimers filtered through and Arya had to laugh. She loves this song! This is the infinite soundtrack to her and Jon’s often jinxed road trips, the only song she and Sansa can actually sing together, and Gendry’s favorite too. Not that it matters to her or anything.

 

In a stroke of boredom and sugar shock, Arya kicked off her slippers and loose sweatpants, turned up the volume on and started dancing in the middle of the living room. Well, more like hopping around and exaggeratedly singing the lyrics in a thick Northern accent. “But I would walk 500 miles! And I would walk 500 more!” she belted off-key to her spoon-slash-microphone. “Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles, to fall down at your door!” She was doing her own version of a Northern jig, when someone loudly coughed behind her. Arya let out an uncharacteristic girlish shriek.

 

Gendry Waters was standing there, staring at her with his lips twitching at the corners and eyes twinkling in mirth.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” she yelled as she tried to grab a cream-colored throw pillow to cover her front. The bastard just burst into peals of laughter. Forgetting her state of undress, a livid Arya attacked him with the pillow. “Shut!” a hit on his arm. “Up!” another on his leg. “You idiot!” a solid thwack on the head. Gendry was having difficulty laughing while trying to defend himself from the smaller girl. When he finally caught his breath, he swiped the pillow from her. “I really wish I recorded that,” he announced with a smirk.

 

Arya can feel heat blooming on her cheeks. It was bad enough that she’s starting to have “weird” feelings towards her stupidly good-looking friend. Now, said friend caught her dancing like a dolt, half-naked, in her old tighty whities no less! Gendry must’ve sensed her distress and the amusement fell from his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, sneak up on you,” he explained. His eyes darting from her eyes to her exposed legs. “Maybe you should, uh…” he awkwardly gestured to her lower torso and turned around to give her some privacy.

 

Arya was mumbling in anger as she pulled back on her sweatpants. Once she was fully clothed, she smacked Gendry’s head again with the pillow. “Hey!”

 

“You could’ve knocked, you know!”

 

“I _did_ knock. And I rang the gate doorbell. You just didn’t hear me over your little 80s party.” She gave him a death glare, daring him to laugh again. Fortunately, he didn’t. “You rich people should really learn how to lock your doors,” he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“What are you even doing here?” she snapped.

 

Gendry looked somewhat offended by that. He's older than her, but they’re pretty close. And it’s not unusual for him to just pop by to hang out, play video games or practice guitar. “There’s a leak on your kitchen sink, so Jon recommended me to your dad.”

 

Of course Gendry is Mr. Fix It – cars, gadgets, and apparently plumbing too. He does different odd jobs here and there to earn some extra cash. “You could’ve texted me that yesterday.”

 

“You always have fencing on Saturday anyways. I figured I’ll just wait for you here after.”

 

Arya’s heartbeat was finally slowing down, so she tried to shoo Gendry away. She needs to wallow in her pit of embarrassment alone. “Well, get to it then.”

 

“Can I get a glass of water first? I'm exhausted.” And with a maddening smirk, he quipped. “I walked 500 miles to get here.”

 

“I'm gonna kill you, Waters!” she screamed as she chased a laughing Gendry across the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> Because a weekend of karaoke-ing this song, is a weekend well-spent.  
> I mean, who doesn't like this song? I seriously want to know. :)


End file.
